by Alma Boykin
One of the clerks made a note. “Is this urgent, your grace?”
“No, just get me the information within a few days if you can. It’s old business that can wait a while longer.”
The woman made an additional note. “Very good, your grace. I’ll see to it.”
“Thank you.”
Elizabeth put the matter out of her mind, her thoughts turning to the military plans currently under development. She continued on to the military section of the palace complex, where her staff officers waited for her with their latest work. She read through what her men had developed and frowned, rubbing her forehead. The starched band on her headcover made her skin itch. “Ulli, what makes you think the Frankonians are going to march this far north before cutting south to attack us? I’m not arguing with you, yet,” she added quickly, “but I’m curious what your reasoning is.”
Captain Ulrich Martin sifted through some pages. “Well, your grace, the latest indications are that the Frankonians will respect the Bergenlander’s neutrality and will go around them, marching up to near Herbstadt before coming down on us. It is a longer distance, but the river crossings are better, and no one’s looted or fought in this area for several years, not since the flying raids by the Poloki eight years ago.” He spread thick fingers over the free cities and small counties and duchies north of the Bergenlands. “This will be very ripe for requisitioning and plunder, your grace.”
Elizabeth, eyes narrow, stuck her tongue between her teeth and pummeled her memory for something. “Have the Bergenlands officially declared their neutrality? I missed that announcement if they have.”
The round-faced officer shifted a little in his seat, shrugging. “Not officially, your grace, but the latest rumors and reports have the Elected Speaker favoring neutrality.” He stuck his jaw out and added, “And Col. Destefani’s report did say that the Sea Republics had agreed to protect the Bergenlander’s neutrality if Laurence V threatens it.”
“Which raised the question of how they intend to do that, since ships don’t march.” She snorted, as did several of the younger men. Ulli flushed a little, growing red around the neck, and she raised a placating hand. “I’m sure they have ways, given how long they’ve been fending off Laurence’s unwanted attentions, but they are first and foremost a naval power.” She rubbed her forehead again. “The other question is what if the Bergenlands vote otherwise? And what happens if Laurence were to ignore their neutrality and march through? Can a neutral fight off an invader or would they be obligated to let him pass through unmolested? I do not know,” she told him. “It’s been a long time since I looked at the laws regarding neutrals.”
Ulli turned to Lt. Esposito. “Imre, what do the laws say?”
“A neutral is obligated to resist violations of its neutrality. Should an outside party request free passage through neutral territory, they may be permitted so long as they bring no weapons or military supplies with them,” the dark-skinned junior officer recited. “Furthermore, my lady, Captain, belligerents are required to respect that neutrality and must avoid passing through or raiding into neutral territory.”
“And the penalties if they violate that neutrality?”
“My lady, they are to make recompense for the intrusion, and all other bordering states are to assist in removing them.” He narrowed his eyes, looking past her shoulder as if trying to remember something. He shook his head, “My lady, I don’t think anyone besides the Empire would help the Bergenlands if Laurence sent his army through them, but that’s strictly my opinion, my lady.”
“The Sea Republics will,” Ulli Martin corrected.
Esposito ducked a little but held his ground. “Yes sir, they will try. But Frankonia remains a land power, and attacking Frankonian shipping or raiding the coastal towns will not make the army turn back from it’s objective, at least not until a lot of damage has been done.”
“The Republics could hire mercenaries.”
“Yes, sir, they can and do. But again, sir, my lady, that takes time, and if the Frankonians or we have already hired for the season, that leaves almost nothing for anyone else.” Esposito kept his tone respectful but Elizabeth could tell that he wasn’t going to yield without a major fight.
She smiled to herself. Good. I need officers who will stand up when they have the facts. “Good points, Lt. Esposito. Ulli, I agree with your initial assessment, but I doubt Laurence V does. Leave this for now,” she tapped the outline he’d presented. “Concentrate on an attack through the Bergenlands. For once we have time, and I want every option considered. Don’t spend too much time on planning for a fight through the Triangle Passes, though.” She studied the map. “If he decides to come that way, he’ll have to fight past Florabi again and we can use what we had from last season, with updates as to supplies and terrain.”
Ulli made a grumbling noise but complied.
“And Lt. Esposito, good work.” He perked up, looking cheerful for the first time in weeks. “I want you to draw up a briefing outline on the laws of neutrality for me, please, suitable for the Imperial council.” His eyes widened and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. She waved her hand back and forth a little, calming him. “Before you panic, I do not foresee anything before the spring thaws start, but we need to have that arrow in our case.”
His perpetual glum expression returned. “Yes, my lady.”
After the men made their notes, she signaled for chokofee. I’m going to need stimulant before this morning is over. “Now, give me the report on the status of our consumables, starting with food and fodder.”
They’d made it to the state of the wine rations when the noon bell rang. “Enough for today,” she announced, smiling at the looks of relief on the men’s faces. I heartily concur. I hate this level of detail, but we all need to see it at least once a year. “We will reconvene the day after tomorrow, Godown willing.” She got to her feet, biting her tongue to stop a curse as her cranky hip fussed and one knee did its best to lock up. The others sprang out of their chairs and she wanted to slap them for disrespect. You were young too, once. Remember how you pitied Quill Starland for the spear-point in his hip? Youth is wasted on the young. “You are dismissed to your duties. Oh,” she added as a seeming afterthought. “If the rough draft of the new plans for the spring campaign are done to my satisfaction by the start of the Winter Fair you can take a full week of free leave.”
She picked up her folder and strolled out before they had time to respond. As she walked down the hall to her tiny excuse for an office, she met the clerk she’d spoken to earlier. The short-sighted woman peered up at Elizabeth, then dropped a curtsey. That was fast. Elizabeth smiled. “Yes, you found something?”
“Yes, your grace. Alois Lee and his family, two daughters and a son and farm boy, are listed as missing, presumed dead, in both the court and church books. I took the liberty of searching the church book for relatives, but could not find any direct kin listed. The estate was ruled closed five years ago, your grace, when no one presented any claims after the last call for them.” She held out a page of notes.
Elizabeth added the document to her folder. “Thank you very much. That answers all my questions.” She found a silver coin, a quarter thaler, in her pocket and pressed it into the clerk’s hand. Yes, I’m squandering our money, Lazlo. I also know that we need friends in the clerks’ paddock, too.
The woman curtsied again. “Thank you, your grace. Please, do not hesitate to let me or one of my fellows know if we can be of service.” The awe-struck look she gave Elizabeth bordered on worship.
“I will do that.” She went to her office, sorted out the papers in her folder enough that she could close the leather case, put on her heavy coat, and got her riding gloves and warm hat. The weather had turned wet again and the wind cut to her bones. By the time she finished, the clerk had gone.
A week later, as she finished her morning prayers and reading, David hurried into the office without knocking. “Your grace, armed men pounding on the gate! They
’re in Duke Clellan’s colors.”
She closed the commentary on Terrance’s “Spiritual Duties.” What are you afraid of, Clellan? Are you Eric Windthorst reborn, to be scared of one woman? “I will be down shortly. Lock the stable and kitchen doors, then let them into the courtyard. Do not start a fight, please.”
Elizabeth strode into the courtyard to find the head of Duke Clellan’s personal guard, along with Father André, the senior priest of St. Mou. “Elizabeth von Sarmas, you are under arrest for heresy and possession of banned technology.”
Her laughter echoed from the courtyard stones.
5
For All the Saints
“Woman, are you so lost in sin that you do not realize the charges against you?” Father André demanded, face as red as his robe, fists clenched, his tight body radiating fury like her fireplace radiated heat.
She sobered. “No, Father, but I was not aware that heresy had been made a civil crime.” She paused, then added, “And as St. Mou himself said in his sermon after the death of Queen Sabra, ‘All have occasion to sin for the same will Godown gives to choose good can also choose evil’.”
The quotation made him pause and the guards with him shifted in place. Had she made them uneasy? If so, good. Motion at the edge of the gate caught her eye, as two men peered in around the edge of the stones.
The guard captain came to Father André’s rescue and pulled her attention back inside the courtyard. “Heresy is not yet a civil crime, woman, but his majesty is defender of the faith, including defense from heresy, and heresy is treason.” He looked down his nose at her, a smug half-smile on his lips.
“Indeed? Again, I was not aware of the changes in the law. May I see the archbishop’s declaration and your orders?”
Father André made a cutting motion with one hand. “His reverence is indisposed and the captain needs no orders other than those from Emperor Thomas himself.”
Elizabeth held out her hand. “Then show me the orders for my arrest.” She locked eyes with the red-bearded captain and waited. His eyes darted back and forth and he licked his lips. She remained motionless. Nervous already? No orders with you? Interesting and poorly planned way to arrest someone.
The man broke eye contact and spun on his heel, almost colliding with Father André. “We’ll be back to search this building. Do not touch anything, woman.” Father André glared at Elizabeth and made a holy sign at her. She remained still, arm out, palm up, watching as the guards followed their leader back into the street. Several more people had gathered to watch the scene, and they scattered as the soldiers pushed past.
“Leave the gates open,” she ordered, dropping her arm once the last of the guards had departed. “David, open everything, all the rooms. Mina, tell the staff they will have their possessions searched and they’d better make a note of all their valuables, in case things get jumbled. Henry, open the stable door and the granary.” Elizabeth walked back into the house, rubbing her hands together. It was cold out.
She unlocked her workroom and propped open the door, unlocking the drawers in the worktable as well. Then she called Mina. “Mina, you heard him tell me not to touch anything.” She pointed to her office desk and the worn bag slouched against it. “Collect all the papers with an ‘R’ in the upper right corner and put them in this satchel.” It did not take long, since she’d already organized her notes. “Thank you. Now put the folder with that copy of the Writ, the old one there, my prayer book, and the three theology books into the bag as well.” Mina did as asked. “Collect the Babenburg blue folders and give them to David, along with that leather case.”
She went out into the hall and found David waiting. “David, take the Babenburg folders and my marshal’s baton and deliver them to Captain Martin in the military wing at the palace. Official military documents and records do not need to be out in public.” And she had no desire to give Clellan access to her personnel evaluations and recommendations.
He bowed. “Yes, my lady.”
“Mina, please bring me my winter coat and gloves, the bag you just filled, and the brown cloth bag from beside my prayer bench in my room. I’ll be in the courtyard.” Trusting her maid to do as asked, Elizabeth returned to the courtyard. There she found Master Kim and some of the other servants standing around. Some looked confused, others steamed with anger. Two of the newer women stepped away as Elizabeth approached, making saints’ signs as they did.
“When Duke Clellan’s men return, they will go through Donatello House looking for things. Everything they want is in my workroom.” Or in the pouch in my skirt pocket, because I don’t trust them not to steal my father’s chain. “Be polite but watch. If they ask you questions, tell the truth. I only ask that you not let them damage the pfeach trees in the solar.” She took a deep breath of the cold, damp air. “I will be in retreat with the Sisters of Service. I have taken my religious books with me. Godown knows what is true and He knows that sometimes we mistake our zeal for His will. Godown be with you.” Mina handed her the coat and she pulled it on, then picked up the two bags.
“My lady, what about us?” Mina asked, face pale, one hand fingering her prayer beads.
“Those who feel comfortable are welcome to stay at Donatello House during my absence. Any who wish to leave are free to do so, after the soldiers finish their search or if you are told you may do so by one of the Imperial guards. I recommend you speak to your priests and make certain that your confirmation and marriage records are current. Obtaining a character from your priest or spiritual advisor might not be remiss, should the question of your being in my service arise.” She thought for a moment and added, “If it comes to that, Lady Ann Starland-Babenburg will pay your wages through the end of the quarter.” Good thing Lazlo and I made her our executrix and gave her control over my share of the Donatello funds and properties.
With that Elizabeth hoisted the document bag over her shoulder and set out on foot to the convent. They will not find what they hope to find, and they will be furious. I’m glad I spoke with Mother Alberta about this last week. Godown be with my people, please. She walked neither fast nor slow. The streets were busier than she expected, but then she recalled that the first of the baking for the Winter Fair had begun, and it was also the day for the main market in the square by St. Kiara’s. A few beggars importuned her and she brushed them aside. She ignored the goods in the show windows of the shops and bakeries, walking head up, eyes forward. The closer she got to the convent, the more people filled the wide, cobbled street. This area, older than most of Vindobona, had escaped the large fire eight years before, and many of the dark, old brick and timber buildings needed repairs and improvements. As a result they housed the poor and ill, servants of the lowest rank, and day-workers. Here the Sisters of Service had built their second convent.
Elizabeth tapped on the guest gate and the porteress opened the door. “Who comes?”
“A daughter of Godown seeking spiritual discernment and a place for contemplation.”
The door closed. As she waited, something fluttered down beside her, catching Elizabeth’s eye. That looks like a snowflake. That one too. My, those are big. A cold white flake landed on her dark blue sleeve and Elizabeth blinked as she studied the feathery crystal. I haven’t seen snow that big in years. I hope everyone’s ready for a storm. Perhaps this will speed up the idiots’ search of Donatello House.
The door opened again and Reverend Mother Alberta extended her hand. “We have a place for all who seek Godown’s aid. Come and be welcome.” Elizabeth bowed and followed the prioress to a plain room, identical to those used by the professed sisters. She unpacked her religious books and changed into a plain, bark-dyed shahma-wool dress very much like the sisters’ habit. Elizabeth folded her other clothes and stuffed them into the brown bag. Then she walked to the sisters’ chapel, bowed to Godown’s symbol, and knelt, reciting the bead prayers.
Two days passed before a novice tapped on the doorframe of her room. “Guest Elizabeth, Reverend Mother Alber
ta wishes to speak with you in her reception room.” Elizabeth followed the teenager past the kitchen and refectory, into the public part of the convent. Here the Sisters handed out food and clothes. Elizabeth stopped at an open door and bowed just as she had when she was a sworn postulant. “Reverend Mother.”
“Come in,” Mother Alberta invited. Elizabeth walked in, ignoring the three men sitting around a small table. “These men wish to speak with you, guest Elizabeth.”
Now she turned to see the visitors. Father André she knew. The man seated beside him wore Babenburg blue with a flash on his cuffs showing that he worked in the Imperial court system. A second priest sat between the two and Mother Alberta. He looked vaguely familiar, but Elizabeth couldn’t exactly place him. “Sarmas,” Fr. André began without preamble, “You are to appear before Archbishop Laurence and his majesty in three days to face charges of heresy and treason.”
“Your pardon, Father, but the original charge was possession of banned technology. And of heresy.” She kept her voice low and her expression calm, just as she had when a postulant thirty and more years before.
“After consideration of the evidence found, his majesty has decided that your possession of unreported Lander technology poses a threat to the Empire by risking Godown’s anger, and so it is treason,” the clerk replied, snapping his words short like a seamstress biting the off the end of a thread.
“For this reason your property has been declared forfeit by the crown,” Father André crowed. The other priest frowned, rubbing one hand over the curved arm of his chair. “You will present yourself at the palace in three days. Until then you are to be confined to a religious house and will conduct yourself accordingly.”
The clerk and second priest both turned in their seats, expressions of disbelief on their faces. Reverend Mother Alberta coughed. Elizabeth raised one eyebrow in mild confusion. Just what do you think this is, a brothel?
